Page 35 of A Christmas Auction

What I didn’t find was anything to wear to bed.

“Fuck my life,” I groaned out loud, frustration leaking into the very air I breathed.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” The bathroom door opened instantly, no knock, no nothing. The man had serious boundary issues.

I rolled my eyes but even that hurt. I covered my forehead lightly with one hand, glad to feel that the bump had receded substantially due to the ice I’d held to it the entire ride over.

“Colin didn’t buy me anything to wear to bed,” I sighed.

“Of course he didn’t. Probably hoping you’d be naked and in his bed,” he snapped.

“Are you going to be this pissy all evening? If so, I’d be more comfortable if you just left.”

“Not happening,” he said while shucking off his suit jacket. He tossed it to a chair then yanked out the bottom of his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants.

I stared rapt, as he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Uh…what are you doing?” I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat.

He tilted his head as he finished undoing the last button and shrugged off the shirt, the fabric falling away from his frame to where he held onto it with one finger. Then he passed the item to me.

“For bed,” he offered.

I snatched the shirt, desperately trying not to drool over his beautiful bare chest. It was even better with all the lights on. So many hills and valleys, tight flexing muscles…

“At least I know you still like my body,” he flaunted.

“Don’t be stupid. You know you look amazing. Humble doesn’t suit you,” I spat before turning around and slamming the bathroom door in his perfect fucking face.

The laughter coming through the closed door made me want to smack him and kiss him again.

“Holly, you are so fucked up,” I whispered to my reflection, wincing as the wound on my forehead was already turning a light shade of purple. The center of the injury was still swollen and painful to the touch.

What was I going to do about Colin?

Scratch that, what the hell was I going to do about this living breathing thing between Bruno and me?

I would agree that the sexual attraction was off the charts. Every sexual experience with him was fostering this carnal seed inside me to bloom. It was as if I had a sexy vixen hidden within me and was single-handedly bringing her to the surface, in spades. Worse is, I like that side of myself. The wild sex, and the way I lose myself to him and the connection between us was unbelievably freeing. I honestly didn’t know that side of me existed, but I’ve come to like her, and what Bruno and I shared, more than I wanted to admit.

And what was with him continuing to flirt, entice, and antagonize me?

He claimed earlier that I was giving him mixed signals, but he’s the one that keeps setting me aflame through his lust-filled gaze, his not so innocent touches, and the way he blatantly brought up chocolate cake earlier? He knew exactly what he was doing, reminding me of that debauched, exceptionally hot sex we’d had. But why?

No strings is no strings.

Right?

Could he honestly want more with me?

I shook my head and winced at the jarring bolt of pain. I hissed through my teeth as I removed the stunning dress I’d never wear again and put on Bruno’s dress shirt over my panties. The ends fell to my thigh but I’m not sure why I cared, because Bruno had seen it all and then some.

After I’d gently washed my face, I pulled my hair into a light bun on the top of my head and exited the bathroom.

Bruno was bare-footed, bare-chested and wearing nothing but dress slacks. He looked good enough to eat. Which was the exact moment my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t had anything since the protein bar the glam team handed me earlier that day.

“I’m starving,” Bruno announced.

“Well, you’re not going down on me right now, so forget about it Mister!” I snapped and then glared as I walked to the closet to hang the dress.

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